What could've been
by LadyJacky
Summary: DRARRY! This story starts just after the Sectumsempra incident in their sixth year. It's about what could've been if Draco had joined the 'right' side to help Harry defeat Voldemort. I warn you though, because this story might not have a happy end!
1. Prolog

**Well ... Here it is. One of my other stories... The idea 'haunted' me for several days now and I just had to write it down! **

**I dunno how often I will update this one, but I try to manage at least one chapter per month (although I would like to manage 2!) **

**Hope you like it!**

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_Blood... It had been everywhere..._

Harry sat bolt upright in bed and hid his face behind his hands. He just couldn't get that picture out of his mind... _All that blood and the deep, heavily bleeding gashes on his chest, standing out against the pale, nearly white, skin. _

He felt suddenly nauseated and swallowed heavily.

There was no way around it, he had to go and see him, to make sure that he was alright...

With a sigh, he climbed out of his bed as noiseless as he could manage and picked up his Invisibility Cloak.

When he was outside in the cool corridor, he took a deep breath and felt his racing mind calm down slightly. He made his way towards the infirmary, looking out for teachers, or even worse, Filch. To his huge relief nobody crossed his way and he soon pushed open the heavy door that led to the hospital wing.

Once he was sure that Madam Pomfrey was already asleep, he pulled the Invisibility cloak off his head and walked towards the only occupied bed.

Harry's heart was beating frantically and he asked himself if it had been a good idea to come looking for him. Although... it couldn't get any worse, could it?

_Not after you nearly killed him_, answered a sarcastic voice inside his head.

Harry snorted. How true...

Slowly, he approached the bed and drew the curtains back, sitting down on the single chair that stood next to it.

_Sleeping..._

Another sigh left his lips and he looked closely at the blond. Some colour had returned to his face and he looked less _dead, _but Harry could see the bandage that covered the others torso.

"I'm so sorry..." he only whispered, but the Slytherin suddenly stirred and opened his eyes, staring at Harry with a mixture of fear and deepest loathing.

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_Please review..._


	2. Chapter 1

**Hey :) Here's a new chapter for this story! Don't worry, they will become longer soon. **

**Hope you like it!**

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For a fleeting moment Harry had the sudden urge to jump off his chair and run for it - the look on the Slytherin's face was murderous.

"You are sorry!? Are you kidding me!?"

Malfoy was screaming right into his face and Harry turned around in alarm, for good reason. In the next moment, the door to Madam Pomfrey's rooms was opened and Harry dived under the bed, hiding himself beneath the Invisibilty cloak.

But was that any good? Wasn't it very likely that Malfoy would just tell her that he was there, hiding?

"Who were you shouting at, dear?"

Harry could see her walk over, and held his breath. She would find out he was there any moment now.

"Nightmare."

She stopped in her tracks and Harry couldn't believe his ears. Had Malfoy just lied to save Harry's neck!?

"Are you sure?"

Harry could hear the Slytherin sigh heavily, "_Yes_. I am not mental. Why would I shout at somebody when there is nobody around?"

The matron made an angry noise, but then simply turned around and walked back to her private rooms.

"Potter," Harry started and hit his head on the bed, swearing loudly, "get up here, I have to tell you whats on my mind."

Malfoy spoke in a cold, demanding voice and Harry sat back down on the chair.

"Now listen to me Potter... You come here and say that you're sorry, thinking that I would happily accept your apology? You could've _killed_ me!"

The Gryffindor just sat there, staring down at his knees while Malfoy kept talking, throwing all his anger at him.

"This whole damn year you followed me, _stalked_ me and kept coming into my way! I am tired of you and your stupid hero-complex! Just stay away from me and keep your nose out of my business!"

Harry now looked up at him, frowning deeply, "I want to know what you're up to. Besides, it's not like_ I _attacked _you_, because actually, you started!"

"And," he angrily stabbed a finger at Malfoy's chest, "you were about to use the Cruciatus curse!"

The blond slapped his hand aside and growled, his eyes narrowed.

"As if..."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "What?"

"As if I would've really aimed at you!"

"Oh yes, you did! Who are you kidding, huh?!"

Malfoy threw his arms up into the air, but then flinched and put them down again.

"Potter, don't be an idiot and just believe me okay? I wouldn't have cursed you..."

He avoided to look at Harry and they sat there in silence for a while, maybe Harry had really overreacted? When he thought about it... He really could've killed Malfoy.

"Then, please, tell me something..."

The blond looked up, but Harry didn't explain. Instead, he grabbed Malfoy's left arm and pulled up his sleeve.

"_Why_?"

Harry looked at his face and watched his expression switch from surprise to despair. Malfoy sighed and drooped his head, slowly pulling his arm out of Harry's grip.

"Do you think I had a choice?"

The blond ran a hand through his hair and Harry had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, something like... pity.

"Dunno... You tell me."

Harry still couldn't turn his gaze away from the Dark Mark that stood in such a strong contrast to Malfoy's pale complexion.

"He threatened to kill me... So, no, I had no choice. Except," he inhaled deeply, "the choice to die or live."

For a moment Harry was tempted that it would've been a better choice to choose death over the life as a Death Eater, but then he remembered that he only thought so because his mother has died for him. He couldn't expect to do the same from everyone.

"But... Why you?"

He looked back up at the blond who looked back for a short moment, before looking down at his hands again.

"I don't know. My mother thinks it might be because _he _is angry at my father and wants something like a payback, he choose me to hurt my father."

"Isn't there any other way? Do you really have to do whatever he asked of you?"

Malfoy slowly shook his head, "There's no way around or I wouldn't do it."

"What do you have to do?"

"I already told you that it's none of your business Potter. I can't and I won't tell you."

Harry looked at determined at him, "I want to help you."

The Slytherin laughed humorlessly, "Stop making a fool of yourself Potter. You wanna help me?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, I recommend you to go straight to Voldemort and tell him to finish you off because you want to help me."

The Gryffindor drooped his head, now really feeling like a fool.

"I don't want to help you finish your task, I want to get you out of his reach, so that you don't have to do what he asks of you."

Malfoy sighed, "Stop worrying and go to bed. I am tired and would like to sleep as well."

There was a finality in his voice that convinced Harry that there was no point in arguing any further.

With slumped shoulders, he got to his feet and put on his Invisibility cloak again before he left the infirmary.

Why did he suddenly have the feeling that he just had to help the Slytherin? He always wanted to catch him while doing something illegal, to get rid of him and to proof that he was indeed a Death Eater. Now that he knew for sure that Malfoy was one of them, he wanted to help him. To keep him from doing whatever Voldemort asked of him. He just had that feeling, somewhere deep down, that the blond never wanted to do any of it. That he would've loved to get away, but saw no way how to.

...

(Draco's PoV)

He pulled the blanket up to his chin and stared up at the ceiling, still pondering about what the Gryffindor had said.

_He wanted to help him_... Him, Draco, a Slytherin. Even worse... _A Death Eater._

A deep sigh left his lips and he shook his head. What a luck, that Potter had no clue what Draco had to do. What he actually was about to do very soon... Or he might've changed his mind rapidly and decided that he deserved nothing more than death.

He might've been right too.

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_Please review..._


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